It's a long summer, lonely and quiet
My sweat sticks to my skin
I am leaving once again.
The air is violent and humid,
I am rambling like a cloud with no tears to shed
No self to keep safe
My routine is clayed into a mess of mud.
Last good day
(I have struck off weekdays and weekends for now)
I lived an eternity in a few hours
With my voices all gone, like travelers emptying an inn,
Last good day I made sure to live.
The sweat may stick to your skin,
Your memories?
Who knows? Of love and life and most of all, luck 
Everything is insane and inane,
Unless I tell you which is which.
In this long summer I have lived too long
And not at all on most days
In the next I will look for some earth
That will send me home
Even if for one good day.